


Atlantic

by perfectly_comfortable



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24664648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectly_comfortable/pseuds/perfectly_comfortable
Summary: After Red's collapse in the restaurant, Liz makes the ultimate choice.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 19
Kudos: 127





	1. Afraid

Liz swung open the door to the bustling kitchen of Red’s restaurant, driven in her pursuit for answers despite the long walk.

“Sorry it took so long but there’s nowhere to park and, apparently, the owner’s too cheap to hire a valet.”

Red chuckled at her remark. “If we had a valet, you’d walk right in. Without one, you’d park far away and by the time you get here you’ve worked up an appetite. Admit it, you’re a little hungry.” he teased, leaning toward her.

“I am. For the truth. Any chance that’s on the menu?” Liz jabbed back.

“Specialty of the house.” Red assured her as he began walking through the kitchen. “I’m never dishonest. Only withholding.” waving a reaffirming finger at Liz as she followed him.

“I know you gave us the Kazanjian brothers to find Maddie Tolliver. I know you think she’s alive.”

“And I know _you know_ I’m not Ilya Koslov.” Red stopped in his tracks and faced her down with the first truth.

“I’m past caring who you are.” she relented.

“ _Really?_ Then, why hire a private investigator to prove it?” he started back, again, towards the quiet corner of the room.

“We have a lead on the Kazanjian’s.” Liz deflected.

“Stanley Birch. The number from the hotel belongs to him.”

“How do you know that?”

“We go back a ways. Stanley could make a black bear disappear in a snow bay. Whoever is after Merwin, they’ll never find him.” he told Liz, retrieving a bottle of red wine from the shelf and admiring it.

“Aram told you.” she deduced.

“Sensing you wouldn’t bring the Kazanjian brothers to me, I had to make alternate arrangements”

“You sent Dembe. He won’t get there before Park.”

Liz feigned confidence. She used her arrogance as a shield to hide the involuntary sensation that now gripped her chest. Reddington’s admittance of distrust felt like her heart was being swallowed up into a black hole.

“I gave you the case to find Maddie Tolliver.” he continued, turning to her and pouring himself a glass. “I think she’s alive and I think she means us all harm. You, Agnes, me, Dom, Dembe, his Imam.”

“Why?” Liz puzzled.

“What difference does it make?”

“Does she have _a reason_ to harm us? Did you _give her_ a reason?”

“I’m sorry, are you upset with me?” Red queried.

“ _Yes, I am_ upset with you. All of this is because of whatever it is _you_ did to her.”

“Don’t put this on me.” he growled.

“ _We’re only here because of you._ ”

“That’s not tr-”

“Whatever you did, whatever happened between the two of you-”

“P-please.”

“...has put all of us in this situation.”

“Please.”

“You withhold information!” Liz shouted, as emotion began to overtake her.

“Please, don’t raise your-”

“You won’t answer my questions!”

“It’s not- I-I don’t yell.”

“You won’t tell me _the truth!_ ”

“You’ve never heard me raise my voice but I’m trying to tell you, this is not my fault! _Do you understand?!_ ” Red exploded, uncharacteristically.

Liz was taken aback as Reddington began to shake with anger.

“This is not my f-!” Red stuttered and suddenly became faint. The wine bottle slipped from his trembling hand and shattered on the kitchen tiles. “It’s not- It’s not my- It’s-”

Liz watched in horror as Reddington’s knees gave out and he collapsed onto the burgundy puddle on the floor. His fedora tumbling from atop his head and laying amongst the broken glass.

“What is it?! What’s happening?! Reddington, can you hear me?!” Liz panicked as she tended to his fallen form.

“Is he alright?” Chef Guillermo asked behind her.

“ _Reddington, can you hear me?!_ Reddington, can you hear me?” she continued calling to him with no response.

His eyes flickering as he faded from consciousness.

“Someone should call 911.”

“I need a car. Yours. Anyone’s.” Liz ordered the Chefs.

“We come by bus.”

This was the last thing Liz wanted to hear. She considered her dwindling options as she felt Red’s chest heave for air under her hand. This image seemed familiar.

She quickly opened his jacket and reached into his inside pocket. Finding his burner phone, Liz flipped it open and dialled ‘*-7-7’.

“What’s your location?” a thick, African voice answered.

“Dembe.” Liz acknowledged. “We’re at the restaurant. Reddington’s collapsed. I don’t know-”

The line clicked as Dembe, promptly, hung up.

Still in shock, she stared at the phone before flipping it shut. Realising Reddington was still on the floor, she knew she had to move him.

“Guillermo.” Liz beckoned the Head Chef. “Help me carry him. Away from the glass.”

Together they hoisted him off the ground, supporting him on each of their shoulders, and carried him to the preparation table. They lay Reddington on the counter and made him comfortable. The burner phone began to buzz in Liz’s pocket.

“Dembe.” she answered.

“There’s a transport on it’s way. Dr. Clemons is standing by at the safehouse. Be out back in two minutes.”

Liz snapped the phone shut and checked on Reddington. “Just hold on. Please! Just hold on. We’re getting you help.” she pleaded, holding his head to the side to help him breath.

*

The medical transport arrived on time and rushed them to Reddington’s makeshift hospital built within the secured warehouse.

Liz sat, anxiously, at Dom’s bedside with the day’s ordeal replaying in her mind. The overwhelming feeling of guilt consumed her as she remembered what was said in anger.

_“You withhold information! You won’t answer my questions! You won’t tell me the truth!”_

As right as she was, Liz couldn’t help but feel responsible for Reddington’s subsequent collapse. She had never pressured nor spoken to him like that before. She felt ashamed for, until today, she had never heard Reddington raise his voice either.

_“I’m trying to tell you, this is not my fault! Do you understand?! This is not my f-!”_

All she could hear were Reddington’s heated words. All she could see was the fierce, piercing look in his eyes. His impassioned profession of innocence before crumbling to the ground. Liz looked upon her grandfather as more of Red’s words echoed.

_“...she means us all harm. You, Agnes, me, Dom, Dembe...this is not my fault! Do you understand?!”_

Liz's thoughts became frantic. First, Dom. Now, Reddington had become collateral damage in the wake of Katarina’s vendetta. Who would be next?

Liz considered Red’s list and instinctively worried about Agnes. She couldn’t help but recognise that everyone she cared about, whom Reddington cared about, were under the constant threat of danger. All because of _her_.

Fear coursed through her and Liz lept from the chair and began pacing, uncontrollably. Her breathing escalated as she came to understand the source of all her problems.

She heard the decorative, glass door click open behind her and she wheeled around.

“The weaning is going well. He could be up and around in no time.” Dr. Clemons announced, referring to Dom.

“So, he’s really on the mend.” Liz addressed, composing herself. “That’s great. What about Reddington?”

“We did an MRI. He had a cerebral edema, which we treated. He’s stable and resting.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Liz asked in a concerned, almost demanding, tone.

“I, uh, can’t say.”

Dr. Clemons seemed cagey and this meant only one thing to Liz.

“Because he told you not to.” she finished.

The doctor's silence was all the answer she needed.

“There’s some business I need to take care of.” Liz exhaled. “Please...call me if either of their conditions change.” she requested.

“Of course.”

With that, Liz left the room - passing Reddington’s on her way out. Gazing through the glass, she saw his dormant state on the medical bed. His arms at his sides over the blanket. His eyes were closed but he was not sleeping. Not really. His smart, white shirt hung open and disheveled to make way for the lines to his oxygen mask. Seeing him so vulnerable drove another painful sting into Liz’s chest.

She turned away from the distressing sight and retrieved her cell phone from her jacket pocket. Searching her contacts, she walked out of the erected structure and across the cold cement of the warehouse. Bringing the phone to her ear as the dial tone rang.

To be expected, he picked up quickly.

“Ressler.” Liz identified. “I need you to do me a favour.”


	2. Broken

Liz sat in the parking lot of the motel. Staring into the complicit building that housed Katarina Rostova like it was an accomplice. 

She finally stepped out of her car, slammed the door, and marched across the concrete to her destination. 

Inside, Liz navigated the labyrinth of corridors until she reached Katarina’s room and knocked three times. The door opened.

“Elizabeth.” Katarina greeted, somewhat surprised, with that deceptively eloquent voice. 

“We need to talk.” Liz stipulated as she brushed past into the cheaply furnished lodging.

Katarina shut the door and overtook Liz, keeping her back to the room.

“I’m done.” Liz told her.

“With what?” an inquisitive look leering across Katarina’s bright, blue eyes.

“With this. All of it. The two of you, the secrets and truths you won’t share. I’m tired of it.”

The matriarch squinted, looking down her nose at Liz. “I didn’t think you were caught in the middle. Not after you saved my life.” she assessed, disappointedly. 

After the events of that morning, Liz was beginning to regret that. A rage bubbled inside her at Katarina’s selfish assumption. 

“It’s complicated.”

“Seems simple to me.” Katarina refuted. “You’re either on my side...or on his.”

A tense silence massed between them. The image of both Reddington, and her grandfather, lain in jeopardy flashed in Liz’s mind. The gut-wrenching threat that loomed over Agnes like a storm. Her decision was clear.

“I’m on  _ my _ side.” she declared. “And I came here to tell you that you will  _ never  _ hurt the people I care about again.” Liz continued, stepping forward threateningly.

Katarina scoffed, shaking her head. “After everything he’s done to me...you still defend him.” 

“I’m defending  _ myself _ . You can’t hurt him without hurting  _ me _ .” 

Failing to mention Reddingon’s collapse, Liz stood sure and shielded him against Katarina and her ignorance. 

“Reddington possesses knowledge that could save my life.” 

“You nearly bled him to death.”

“There’s a bounty on my head.” Katarina asserted with a justified tone. “I did what I had to.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“The Sikorsky Archive-”

“Don’t start.”

“It’s a blackmail file.” Katarina relented.

“I don’t wanna hear this.”

“It contains compromising information on very powerful people. I’ve been accused of stealing it. He knows I didn’t. I think he knows who did.” 

“And I’ve heard enough.” Liz rolled her eyes and pulled the Glock 17 from under her juniper coat. 

Katarina almost laughed. “What? You’re going to shoot me?” her brow lifting condescendingly as an unphased smirk broke from her parted lips. “We’ve been here before, Masha.” 

“No. I’m not gonna shoot you.” Liz assured her, holding her firearm at her hip. “You see, I’ve had it with secrets and blackmail files...and the collateral damage that comes with them.”

“You think Reddington isn’t responsible in all this?” Katarina goaded.

“Reddington doesn’t dodge his guilt.” Liz acknowledged. “I used to blame him, too, but everything he’s done since coming into my life has been to protect me, my daughter, and the people he cares about.” she paused. “Can you say the same?”

Katarina’s false confidence began to fade from her face. 

“Even before I met you, all you’ve done is endanger everyone I care about. You betrayed two countries for the Cabal, the same people who tried to discredit and kill me _ because of you _ . Did you even know that?” Liz asked, cocking her head to the side. 

Katarina now looked aghast. 

“Of course not...because  _ you weren’t here _ .” Liz reminded her.

“That’s not my fault.” Katarina retreated, her expression faltering. 

“That doesn’t change anything. A mother will do anything for her child. _ I should know _ and that still doesn’t change the fact that Reddington was there when you weren’t. Everything that is wrong with my life leads right back...to  _ you _ .” she accused. “This morning, you told me that you want your life back. Well, so do I...and like I said, I’m not going to shoot you. This-” she gestured to her pistol. “...has just been to make sure I have your attention.”

Suddenly, the battering sounds of doors being breached, resounded from the hallway.

“FREEZE! FBI!” 

“FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPON!” 

“HANDS!” the bellowing voices echoed through the walls as they apprehended Katarina’s associates in the surrounding rooms. 

Katarina flinched, looking around and trying to comprehend the abrupt chaos that ensued around them. Finally, she locked eyes with the orchestrator. 

Liz responded with a satisfied simper. 

As the uproar subsided, she heard three knocks on the door behind her. Liz backed towards it, keeping her sights on the dazed Katarina, and opened the room. 

Two, plain-clothed, HRT operatives entered and secured Katarina where she stood with their weapons trained on her. Liz holstered her own as Ressler appeared around the doorframe and took her side. They stood together confidently. Their plan had worked. 

He focused on Katarina before turning to Liz. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” she confirmed, shooting a look at their target.

Returning to Katarina, Ressler stepped towards her revealing the gold badge clipped to the belt beneath his jacket. “Katarina Rostova. You’re under arrest for the crimes of espionage and treason against the United States.” 

He approached the horrified woman and held her hands behind her back. 

Liz watched, a weight lifting from her as she heard the metallic zip of justice locking around Katarina’s wrists. 

Ressler, with one hand on the cuffs and the other laid on the now frail woman’s shoulder, walked the prisoner out of the motel room. Katarina stumbled as the realization hit her and as they drew closer, her eyes rose to meet Elizabeth’s.

“Masha.” she pleaded. “Masha, I’m your mother!”

Liz raised her hand, prompting Ressler to stop. She stared back at Katarina’s desperation and gave her none in return. “My name is Elizabeth.” she told her. “And my mother died in Cape May.”

Katarina looked at her, crestfallen, as Liz nodded at Ressler to take her away. 

“You have the right to remain silent-” Ressler read as they disappeared into the hall pursued by the HRT. 

Liz sung a deep breath to herself as she followed them out into her new world.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she retrieved it to the message:

**Reddington awake.**


	3. Beginning

_ “You withhold information! -answer my quest-! You won-ell me-truth!” _

Elizabeth’s exasperated voice echoed in his mind as her blurry form rippled in the darkness. Reddington fought through the pitch to hear her. To see her clear, cobalt-blue eyes glistening beneath the bright, artificial light. Her soft, furrowed brow and waves of walnut hair. 

Just as Lizzy came into focus, the dark veil lifted and his eyelids opened, involuntarily introducing him to consciousness. 

He was met with the familiar, dim bronze glow of the medical safehouse and blinked into awareness. He drowsily tilted his head to survey the room and found Dembe reading at his bedside. Reddington murmured, incomprehensibly, through the plastic that clung to his face and Dembe’s head shot up. 

“Raymond.” he welcomed, standing over Reddington and pulling the oxygen mask away.

“Where’s Elizabeth?” Reddington asked, looking around concernedly. 

His last memory was of Lizzy standing, dismayed, before him. Despite his still-waking limbs, all he wanted to feel was her presence. To know that she was alright. 

“She’s not here.” Dembe said with his soft, African accent.

The only thing Reddington felt, now, was his heart sinking. “Where is she?” 

“I don’t know. By the time I got here, she had already left.”

_ Left,  _ Reddington thought. He paused trying to construct the foggy memories he saw in his subconscious. “What happened?”

“Elizabeth called in a code seventy-seven from your burner. You were both at the restaurant. She said you collapsed.” 

_ “You won’t answer my questions! You won’t tell me the truth!” _

_ “I’m trying to tell you, this is not my fault! Do you understand?!”  _

Reddington finally heard their emotional cries reverberate through time and space as he slowly lifted himself from the pillow.

“Gently.” Dembe instructed, helping him up then angling the bed behind him for support.

“She’s upset with me.” he mumbled, hazily.

“Whatever happened, you  _ can’t _ blame her...or yourself.” an understanding silence exchanged between them. “She asked Dr. Clemons to contact her when your condition changed.”

Reddington turned to Dembe with hope flickering in his eyes. She still cared. 

“I should tell him you're awake.” Dembe continued, making way to leave. 

Reddington allowed his friend to depart as he leaned back against the mattress and made himself comfortable. He pondered what he had just heard. The heated words of the past, the assumption that Lizzy had abandoned him. Conflicting emotions tightened in his chest as he reflected on the probability that she hated him. Yet, she brought him here and, even though she didn’t stay, wanted to be kept updated on his condition. 

“Good evening.” Dr. Clemons greeted, opening the decorative glass door. 

“Doctor.” Reddington replied. “What happened?”

“Agent Keen brought you in.” he informed, standing at the foot of the bed with a file in hand. “According to her, you lost consciousness and collapsed. We stabilized you, did an MRI, and determined you suffered a cerebral edema.”

That made sense. Reddington suddenly felt the residual tension of not just the argument but the pressure within his head. Like he was underwater. Like he was drowning. 

“I’m not going to minimize how serious this incident was given that it’s your second one, this month. I’ll be adjusting your meds and I recommend rest.” Dr. Clemons stressed. 

“What of Elizabeth?”

“She said she had some business to attend to. I’ve just informed her you’re awake and she’s on her way. Liz asked about your condition before she left...and, understandably so, seemed very troubled. I think it’s unhealthy to keep it a secret from the people who care about you.”

“Are you my doctor or my conscience?” Reddington quipped. 

“Honesty hurts far less than the alternative, Mister Reddington.” 

*

Some time later, Reddington had detached himself from the tubes and wires that monitored him and he sat bracing himself upright on the edge of his bed. With the neck of his shirt still open, he gathered his strength awaiting her arrival. 

All of sudden, he heard the brisk resonance of a woman’s boot heels vibrating upon the wooden floorboards. It stopped outside the door and Reddington looked up to see her figure standing, prismed, behind the distorting entrance. She appeared like an earthy spirit, lingering there, behind the panes, as if puzzled by his existence. Elizabeth’s hand reached the doorknob and turned the handle. Her face became sharper as she revealed herself past the frame of wood and glass. 

A warm sensation relief washed through him as he finally beheld her soft visage. The one he battled so fervently to see as sharply within his mirage. The dusky light of the room darkened her locks and regrettably hid her vivid irises but her ivory skin glowed. 

Elizabeth stepped into the room, between him and the door, and regarded him. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, tenderly.

He absorbed her a moment longer before remarking, “I just had the most interesting headache. Colours and images. An acid trip...but with pain.”

“I’m glad  _ you _ can joke about it. It terrified  _ me _ .” 

“Thank you for...getting me here.”

Her stern disapproval of his joke softened at his sincerity. “I acted on instinct. I did what I had to.” 

“All the same. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Elizabeth told him, her hands still tucked, modestly, into the pockets of her forest-green coat. “And I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Reddington blinked.

“It’s my fault.”

“Elizabeth-”

“No.” she insisted. 

Reddington yielded. A sense of  déjà vu struck him and he knew what she wanted to say. So, he subscribed to Dembe’s advice. “We were... _ talking  _ about her.” he squinted. 

“We were arguing.” Elizabeth confessed. 

Reddington paused, taken aback by her honesty. “She’s a threat.”

“She  _ was _ .” 

Something in Elizabeth’s tone struck him. He analysed her. “Why you left...your business-”

“It’s taken care of.” she interjected, attempted to change the subject.

Reddington stared at her, calculating. “What have you done?” he inquired, ominously. 

Elizabeth swayed on her feet, the force of his question sweeping through her and rustling her like a tree. Her chest rose as she prepared to impart an answer.

“After your collapse, all I could do was think. Think about how guilty I felt-”

“Don’t-”

“Let me finish.” she entreated with a breath. 

Reddington relaxed and waited to hear what she had to say. 

“I felt responsible for what happened and  _ I am _ ...and I don’t expect you to forgive me.” she maintained, shaking her head. 

Reddington’s jaw tensed as he swallowed that forgiveness he so desperately wanted to bestow upon her.

“I thought about what you said; about how she meant us all harm.” Elizabeth quoted. “I thought about you, Dom,...Agnes.”

He felt his eyelid twitch.

“Then, I realised that none of this  _ was  _ your fault.” she reflected. “It was hers. She put us all in danger...and I was afraid.” she admitted, shakily. “I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. So, I ended it.”

“What did you do?” Reddington asked, a timbre of worry breaking from his throat. Whatever her answer, every fibre of his being begged for the preservation of her soul.

“She’s in federal custody.”

Reddington’s expression lifted in awe as he processed her declaration. “How did you-?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s over.” Elizabeth affirmed with resolve. “All that matters is that I pushed you…too far...and I’m sorry. I didn’t know-”

Elizabeth cut herself off, finally acknowledging his affliction. They braced themselves in a collective silence, wondering who would speak first.

“Doctor Clemons said you had a cerebral edema.” she addressed with trepidation.

Reddington brushed it off with a chuckle, trying to put her at ease with a smile. “Nothing more than a migraine.”

“I’m a clinical psychologist, Red.” Elizabeth retorted, unamused. “I don’t have to google it. I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were.” He bore his awareness of her intelligence through her.

She looked at him and he could see that she was fighting both physically and emotionally. Her legs staggered ever so slightly then straightened, again. Those pursed lips containing words that escaped her betraying, aching eyes. 

The only solace he took was that he could not see their true colour for he feared his heart would truly break. 

“First, you make arrangements to hand down your empire to me. Then, you suffer a head trauma that your doctor, _ per your instruction _ , refuses to discuss with me.”

“I assure you, Elizabeth, I’m perfectly-”

“And Ressler tells me that  _ Spalding Stark _ ...has a medical file on you the size of the yellow pages.”

Reddington froze, shooting her a disapproving look. “Ressler told you that?”

“At least,  _ he  _ felt I had the right to know. Would  _ you _ have told me?”

He didn’t answer. Knowing what he knew, he remained determined in not wanting her to worry. Still, he found himself failing. His sight remained on Elizabeth and, now, he saw her faltering face begin to quiver. 

“Are you-” she tried, her stance shifting reluctantly. “Are you dy-?”

There it was. The word he always thought he was ready for. Yet, nothing had prepared him to hear how she choked on just a syllable. Reddington could not move as he watched Elizabeth's perfect features crumble. Her eyelids squeezed shut and her head fell. A hand covered her tightened lips, locking the terrifying possibility within herself.

The corners of his own mouth sunk as he was forced to watch her anguish. His chest emptied with realisation and time seemed to stop. The only sound was Elizabeth’s muted sobbing as he looked up at the lonely messenger. 

Pulling her hand away, she heaved a gasp of air. 

Reddington couldn’t bear the sight of her pain any longer. He bowed his head, hiding the deluge that threatened to break the dam, and stared at the space between his feet. 

Elizabeth waded toward him and took his side on the bed. Her melancholic energy irradiated him and his left index finger, the hand closest to her, trembled. All he wanted was to hold her. To tell her everything was going to be okay but his body was numb. 

In his peripheral, he saw movement. Then, every sense reignited as he felt Elizabeth’s soft fingers smooth over the back of his hand. She enveloped his wavering digit and sought to wrap her own under him. He lifted, spinning his fingers into hers.

He closed his eyes as he savoured the touch of Elizabeth’s thumb caressing the tremor. 

Then, he felt a current pulling him toward her. He turned and, without seeing, felt his forehead berth upon hers. 

He heard and felt the wind of their laboured breath as they lay against each other. 

“Lizzy.” Reddington whispered to her.

“ _ I can’t lose you _ .” she wept, weakly.

He rose up to place a kiss into her hairline before resting his cheek upon it. “You won’t lose me. I promise.”

“We’re going to fight this.” she vowed. “You and me.” 

Behind his eyes, he felt Elizabeth nestle against his shoulder. In that quiet moment, there was only her as the world revolved around them and he swore he felt Elizabeth’s lips press through the light cotton of his shirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was named for and inspired by the song 'Atlantic' by Keane. I wove a lot of lyrical imagery through each chapter and it must be heard for you to understand why I wrote it.  
> Please, listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cibH-urQE6A
> 
> Thank you for the continued love and support! See you next time!  
> /perfectly_comfortable


End file.
